


jjeoro juja fighting

by ginafics



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: This is sad I guess?, mark is graduating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 06:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16868146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginafics/pseuds/ginafics
Summary: mark has graduated.





	jjeoro juja fighting

**Author's Note:**

> i'm sorry for this, this is very short and i'm just very sad, so i need to pour all those feelings into something. a self indulgent little fic. Italic he refers to mark.
> 
> unbeta-ed

There’s that heavy weight on his shoulders again, something that he has familiarized himself with these past few weeks. Renjun has learnt a lot of things in the span of two months. He learns that reality never stops moving for people, no matter how hard it is for them to catch up. He learns that dream needs to stop at one point in life, even though the force of it would knock the breath out of his lungs. His first time coming back to the familiar room of floor to ceiling mirrors and doors with beeping buttons might probably be the most bittersweet thing that he has to do that month. Right at that point in life, he learns one more lesson in his life. Empty spaces could be ignored and refilled, but no matter how hard he tried, he’d never be able to erase that nudging feeling of emptiness. It feels like losing a limb, Renjun thinks wistfully. No matter how hard his brain convinces him that _he’s_ there; his heart knows that the triangle is not the same. The fingers that slot in between his fingers just convince him how this is not their perfect formation, for two people stand in the front to balance out the even number. Renjun feels the small squeeze of reassurance in his hand as he stares at Jaemin’s reflection on the mirror.

“If you get it wrong, sushi.” Someone mutters quietly in the back, but no one cheers. Renjun bets it Donghyuck. He tightens his hold of Jaemin’s hand before releasing it with a small smile adorning his lips. The weight might need time to be lifted off his shoulder but again reality would never stop for him. The upbeat melody is suddenly echoing around the room, and so Renjun lets the music to envelop his body and control it like a doll.

* * *

 

He thumbs the corner of his lyrics papers absentmindedly. The silence inside the recording studio is deafening, but he refuses to take off his headphones. Jaemin smiles when he realizes that his fingers are not trembling when he gets inside the cabinet, maybe _he_ will be proud if _he_ knew. The countless reminders to stop being so nervous flit across his brain like a documentary video. The title to their new song is written in bold characters, staring at him in the face. A small reminder of what he has lost because this is his fourth title track when it is supposed to be the Dream’s sixth. He had missed a year with them, a year lost to grasping any sliver of hope to achieve his dream, and a year that he would always regret. _If only._ Jaemin looks up to glance at the other side of the room, beyond the glass barrier where Jeno is seated on his usual chair. The empty chair beside him gives a stark contrast to the last time they spent a late night recording in the studio.

“Can you try the last verse before we wrapped this part?” the producer’s voice booms in the small, suffocating room. Jaemin doesn’t dare to leave Jeno’s encouraging calm gaze. He doesn’t have any outsider opinion in this session; no one he can ask will give him the answer he’s actually seeking. But Jaemin holds Jeno’s gaze, and the older nods subtly. A sign Jaemin had seen countless times whenever _he_ approves of something. And so Jaemin nods, letting the music and the beats flow through him, letting him once again create something _he_ might be able to be proud of.

* * *

 

They sit side by side in the bright white room. The stylist noonas are all busy floundering over Hyuck and Jeno’s hair, and they’re left on their own with the makeup artist noonas. The tension in the room is palpable. If Jisung has a scissor, he might be able to cut through it. All of them are definitely nervous and also pressured. This is their first comeback stage without _him_ for goodness sake. Chenle can hear the lady fussing over the dark circles under his eyes, and he almost rolls his eyes at the irony of it. Jisung hasn’t moved even for a little bit, too immersed in trying to avoid everything that is happening in the room, trying to solely plant the idea in his head that he won’t stumble over the words in his part. He hates it, _God,_ he hates the silence, especially when _he_ actually comes to support them on their first comeback day. Jisung hates that he feels like crying. The sudden hand on his knees startles him.

“We can do it.” The quiet words come from the boy beside him. Jisung can’t help but to exhale shakily while trying to stop his knees from bouncing in nervous. If Chenle says they can do it, then he would believe in his best friend. Jisung catches the stare Chenle has been giving him and nods when he raises his brow in question.

“What would we do next year?” Jisung has dared himself to ask. The hold on his knee only tightens.

“We perform.”

“And the next year?” the pause that follows is deafening.

“The rest of us will be there on the couch, cheering for you before your first comeback of the year.” Jisung can only smiles dejectedly as he captures Chenle’s eyes in the mirror.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

* * *

 

He doesn’t know whether this will work or not. They all know there’s always a reason why _he_ is the leader, and that’s definitely not because _he’s_ the oldest. If he were to be honest, he can’t help but to feel a little bit upset with everything that’s going on right now. Jeno has some very big shoes to fill in, and he honestly is not that certain with himself. He knows he has done this before, but it was different. He did it on stage and, of course, they have the obligation to answer him. Doing this right now, in the middle of the room, right before their first comeback as six, especially with _his_ piercing gaze from the corner of the room, is entirely different. This is personal. This is behind camera and without any spectators; even Jisung himself said he wouldn’t do it if it’s not _him_. Jeno is not sure he can actually do this as well as _he_ did it. The hands piled above his don’t feel hesitant, though. Sure it’s stilted and not as heavy as the usual, but it’s firm and genuine. Jeno can feel the determination buzzing inside the small circle they have made. Jeno can feel the smile directed at his back, a small encouragement to continue what he has started. And, _God_ , it is hard to fill the shoes of a somewhat perfect leader, but, right now, Jeno knows he would do anything to be able to present the best side of his group to the world. Right now Jeno can only tries to do his best, for he is never alone in this journey.

“Yo Dream!”

* * *

 

The lights are directed straight at them in the middle of the stage. For a few seconds the only thing Hyuck can hear is his own harsh breathing, his chest rapidly moving as his lungs greedily absorbing the small amount of oxygen he can get into his body. Then the deafening cheers and scream assault his auditory. As long as his eyes can see, the view in front of him is once again filled with smiling face and the green light that illuminates everything prettily. The confetti is still floating all around them, and for a second he can’t help but to feel lost. All his eyes can see are just strangers upon strangers upon strangers, people who love them without even actually knowing them, cameras upon cameras broadcasting them to even more people he doesn’t even know. _It’s all just strangers after strangers after strangers aft –_ oh. _He_ is there, standing on the audience rows, easily blending in with the rest. The grin in _his_ face is just as wide as _his_ usual grin after every performance, just the same as if _he’s_ the one performing, and _oh_ of course it’s stupid of Donghyuck to be scared shitless this morning before the performance. He has been afraid that it would be so different without _him_ on the stage, that Dream stages would feel different and lose its appeal to him because _he_ is not there. Oh how wrong could he be. _He_ will always be there, whether _he_ performed on the stage or not, he should have trusted _him._ Because _he_ would always be there, _he_ would always be with them. The fingers that are suddenly intertwined with his startle him out of his reverie.

“Always at the same time, same place, we were always together.” Hyuck has recited quietly, remembering a piece of lyrics Jeno himself had written. He can feel the force of smile the older is directing at him.

“He really made it come true, huh?” Hyuck chuckles at that.

“Even after stepping down from his leadership, he still guides us like we’re all headless chickens doing their first debut.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Of course, after all this is not a departure.” Hyuck squeezes Jeno’s hand, while sending a happy grin at the boy hidden in between the audiences, illuminated by the green light from their light sticks.

* * *

 

_Don’t forget the tone I called you,_

_Chant it like we always did._

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/gay_n_shitty)


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